


Play fights and pranksters

by evakuality



Category: Druck | SKAM (Germany)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Missing Scene, Near Future, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:26:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23339881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evakuality/pseuds/evakuality
Summary: It starts, as these things always do, with one of their wrestling matches.  David’s not even sure why they started these play fights, except that it might have had something to do with pent up feelings after too much weed and a lot of uninterrupted time together that first day.  What he does know is that, having started, the wrestling and play fighting never really stopped.  Once they moved to their own home, though, it did become a bit more… unique.
Relationships: Matteo Florenzi/David (Druck)
Comments: 10
Kudos: 75





	Play fights and pranksters

It starts, as these things always do, with one of their wrestling matches. David’s not even sure why they started these play fights, except that it might have had something to do with pent up feelings after too much weed and a lot of uninterrupted time together that first day. What he does know is that, having started, the wrestling and play fighting never really stopped. Once they moved to their own home, though, it did become a bit more… unique.

Once they had their own space, the ‘matches’ tended to roam through the whole place, leaving them both breathless and laughing and usually with a path of destruction in their wake. Whoever wins has to do the other’s bidding for a day, and the requests are often to do the grossest of the household chores. That means that tactics to win are often brutal and underhanded, and neither of them is ever willing to give in easily.

Which, at its core, is why David’s standing here, chest heaving after all the effort and staring at his boyfriend in consternation. Matteo’s foot is, there’s no other way to put it,  _ stuffed _ into their toilet bowl and there’s a sheepish grin on his face. He has one hand braced against the wall behind the cistern and the other planted on his hip as if he’s just casually standing there instead of being effectively trapped.

Feeling a strong sense of triumph at his impending victory, David grins at Matteo, whose own smile is somewhat brittle as if it’s just dawned on him that he’s going to lose this particular bout.

“Did you seriously just get your foot stuck in a toilet?” David asks, hoping that his eyes are deceiving him and he’s not going to have to help with this completely absurd situation, even if Matteo’s current dilemma does mean he’s going to be able to get Matteo back with something even more disgusting than usual as his victory spoils.

Matteo shrugs. “Maybe,” he says. “I’m not sure how stuck it is.” He glances down at where his foot is wedged in the bowl, and tries an experimental tug, sloshing the water ominously as he does so. “It sure is in there, though.”

“How did that even happen?”

“I don’t know. I got away from you and ran and, well… here we are.”

He tries what he obviously believes is a winning smile and his best wide open, pleading eyes. His hands are up in comical defeat, and he’s dragging on his foot in a seemingly unsuccessful attempt at freeing it. The water splashes out around the foot. David sighs, and moves closer to look down where the foot is planted. 

The foot doesn’t  _ look _ all that stuck, if he’s being honest; it seems to be just resting in the bowl rather than jammed inside anything. Matteo’s struggles don’t seem to be making any difference, and instead should have ended up with the foot out and free.

It takes a split second too long to register what’s actually going on, so David is too slow to avoid Matteo’s arms as they clasp his head and pull him down so he can rub his fingers into David’s hair, his foot back on firm ground and a whooping joyous yell of victory coming out of his mouth.

David stumbles, knocked off balance by his own curiosity about what Matteo had done, and by Matteo taking swift advantage of the situation. The asshole  _ planned _ this, and David was foolish enough to walk into the trap. He groans, his arms flailing as they try to connect with Matteo's body and get himself back in the game. Unfortunately it doesn’t work, his body is too thoroughly twisted and caught in Matteo's grasp. Matteo soon has David on the floor, sitting on his hips and pushing his hands out to the side as he leans down over him.

“Surrender?” he says, a smirk on his face and his eyes lit up with a smug mirth as he pants, sucking in heaving breaths that prove how much this has taken out of him.

“Nope, never,” David deadpans as he struggles against the hands that have him pinned. He knows it’s a lost cause though; Matteo seldom gets him into this position when they wrestle like this, but when he does it’s always game over. No matter what David does, he never manages to get out of this situation.

Matteo grins down at him, hair falling in front of his eyes in a way that unfairly makes David’s heart stutter, when all he wants is to be mad because he’s been beaten in such a stupid way. “I can wait,” he says, and David knows how true that is. 

He pushes up with his hips, while trying to twist his hands out of Matteo’s but all that does is make him lean down closer to David with an even more wicked twinkle in his eyes.

“If you wanted to get me closer to make out, you could have just asked,” Matteo says, the glee in his voice even more obvious now.

David groans again, frustrated. His competitive side hates it when he loses like this, but part of him is uncomfortably turned on with Matteo so close, his legs clamped on either side of David’s and the way his hair falls so near it’s practically tickling David’s nose a little too much to bear.

That part of him wants to take this elsewhere, and tries to squish the competitive side into some sort of submission.

“Hmmmm,” Matteo says, pretending to think, but with a smile on his face that says he knows exactly what he’s going to go for already. “What should I make you do? There’s a nice bathroom that needs a good clean; it’s been a really long time since that was tackled properly. What do you think?”

“I think I’m too sober for this,” David growls. Matteo knows the bathroom is his least favourite chore, the asshole, which is why he’s picking it.

“You don’t even drink,” Matteo says with another smirk as he sits back and lets David's hands drop out of his own. It’s his signal that he’s done with the game, and David concedes that he’s right. If he hasn’t broken out by now he’s not going to. Which means the bathroom is going to fall to him, unfortunately.

“Maybe I should start,” he says as Matteo lets him roll out from under him. “It would at least be more dignified than this, and I would maybe get through cleaning the bathroom with some semblance of sanity.”

Laughing, Matteo stands and reaches a hand down to help David to his feet. “Being dignified and sane is no fun,” he says cheerfully, pushing his hair back off his face with his fingers in a way that makes David's heart beat erratically again. Which is annoying, because he’d just got his body under control after the exertions of the wrestling, and he still wants to be mad, dammit.

But the look in Matteo’s eyes as he brings their hands together, linking their fingers once David is on his feet, is enough to drive all annoyance away. Because behind that smug satisfaction glows a loving desire. That look Matteo is bestowing on him right now is one David never tires of; it reminds him that Matteo still loves him, no matter that he’s lost a stupid play fight. No matter that his ego has taken a bruising because he was fooled by the simplest of tricks. No matter that Matteo is going to crow about this for at least the next month, and no matter that he has to do his most hated chore.

None of that matters at all, because the love in that look is all that actually means anything right now. None of that matters because Matteo pulls him into a kiss, and his fingers light trails of energy through David's already-heated body as they brush so gently over his hips and slide under his shirt. 

“I don’t want to kiss you,” David says, trying for grumpy but aware his voice is just breathless. “That was a gross trick and your foot is disgusting.”

“You do though,” Matteo says with a smirk as he moves his fingers, pressing David more firmly to him and raising his eyebrows with a questioning quirk. “You always want kisses.”

David’s own hands have found Matteo’s skin now too, sliding in under his t-shirt and making him gasp as his eyes brighten. “I guess I do,” he whispers, pressing in so he can kiss Matteo again in agreement with his point. “Gross or not.”

“Can’t get enough of this champion, huh?” Matteo says as they part again. His hands have moved to curl up in David’s hair, caressing the nape of his neck and sending shivers through him, lighting his body and making him  _ want. _ These fights always end like this, no matter who ‘wins’ the actual bout.

And that, more than anything, reminds David that whatever the result, they’re both winners here. In their own home, who wins the game is irrelevant. Because they have each other, and because they share this space, equal victors in the end. Even if it results in disgusting chores and Matteo having bragging rights. It’s theirs, they can fight like that or kiss like this whenever and wherever they like, and that makes all of this worth it.


End file.
